Monster, Part 3 - Finale
by Upir
Summary: Loki & Lyanne are imprisoned in separate realms, desperate and bitter. Lyanne's captors put her through horrors that may break her, while Loki must contend with the idea of eternity in his cell. Will catch up to what happens after Thor 2. Slight crossover with Guardians of the Galaxy (Collector only). Rated T for language & violence, reviews adored, but it's ok to just enjoy it.
1. Lyanne's Imprisonment

"Again, Brooks," came the voice through the speaker above her.

_How long has it been?_

_Who cares_

_I still don't know where I am..._

_Who cares_

_I don't feel right._

_Who cares_

Lyanne snarled and slammed her wolfish, purple- and white-furred body into the man in front of her, trying in vain to overpower him. He was handsome beneath his unkempt brown hair and unfocused eyes, despite his missing arm having been replaced with a frightening metal prosthetic. He merely plucked her off of him with the same silver appendage and threw her body forcefully against the wall where she collapsed, curling into the fetal position and whining like a wounded dog.

_That is what I am._

"_Again,_ Brooks!" the man shouted angrily over the loudspeaker.

_I won't cry_

_I won't cry_

_I won't cry_

She straightened with great effort, flexing her sore and bruised arms, readying her claws and baring her teeth. This time the man attacked first, grabbing her throat with his metal hand and strangling her just enough not to kill her, while her clawed feet scratched his chest in vain. Twisting her body up, she coiled her legs around his neck and squeezed as hard as she could, but he hardly reacted beyond beginning to shake her. With one last great effort, she brought her foot around to the side of his neck, dug her talons in, and dragged back, opening a gaping wound that just missed his jugular. He gasped and dropped her, clutching where she had gouged him. Suddenly a mist sprayed into the room from above and he collapsed. Lyanne breathed heavily, knowing the routine, and fell unconscious as well soon after.

When she awoke later in her cage, after what she assumed had been hours, she noticed them wheeling the now-healed man she had battled earlier back into his chamber, where he would be frozen until they needed him later.

_How long until I have to fight him again?_ she wondered.

_Does it matter?_ the other voice in her head responded.

_I guess not._

She sighed heavily, lying on her side against the bars of her cage and smelling the air as they brought her a meal she didn't feel like eating. The soldier watched her with slight interest as she sniffed at the food with her snout, then merely rolled over, curled into a ball, and appeared to fall asleep. She heard his footsteps echoing out of the room, waiting until she heard the door shut behind him and she was left alone before sitting up straight. She looked once more with disinterest at the food they left for her – a small helping of some brown mush she assumed was beans and an ear of wilted corn. She was glad she wasn't hungry.

_I won't cry_

_I won't cry _

_I won't cry_

She did.


	2. Loki's Imprisonment

"_Many a monster wears the form of a man; it is better of the two to have the heart of a man and the form of a monster,"_ he read. He snorted and tossed the book aside. His mother had brought him many, or at least had the guards bring them to him, trying for as large a variety as she could, from all corners of the universe. This particular selection she had gotten from Midgard – something she had no doubt chosen herself to help soothe his anger, but instead it made him twice as furious.

_Beauty and the Beast? _he sneered at the title, examining it from the floor where he had thrown it. _I guess she thought the story itself, as well as the fact it is from Midgard, would make me soften... _

He breathed out deeply, thinking once more of...

_She was wrong._

He leaped off his bed and kicked the book across the cell, straight into the magical golden barrier, where it stuck and burnt into a pile of ashes in seconds.

"HA!" he laughed, enjoying the cruel pleasure it gave him to destroy something.

Another prisoner in the cell across from him gave him a judgmental look, and Loki raised his middle finger in an insulting Midgardian salute.

"You are not pleased?" he heard his mother's image ask. She had surprised him, and he disliked the feeling.

"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly.

"To visit my son," she laughed, brushing off his rudeness.

He turned around to face her image, scowling deeply and full of burning rage.

"That book was stupid," he said. "Do not bring me such trifling rubbish again."

"That one had a point to it," she sniffed.

"I know," he seethed. "That _drivel_ isn't fit to grace my hands."

"Oh Loki," she sighed, "When will you ever find peace?"

Her sad comment cut deeper than any insult. He relaxed and sat in the chair across from her, putting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. The image of his mother reached out across the table to let her hand hover above his arm in support. A guard outside the cell cleared his throat, and Frigga's image motioned for him to enter. She had posted only the guards she trusted as having tight lips in the dungeons, but paid them handsomely besides for their silence. Though she was not scared of her husband's anger, she did not want to rouse it, either. The guard placed a bowl of fruit, bread, and cheese on the table, as well as a tall pitcher of red wine, giving Loki a disgusted look before turning away and walking back out of the cell without trouble. The barriers did not affect the guards.

"Eat, Loki," Frigga pleaded more than commanded.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"I've had your favorite wine brought down."

Loki looked up and examined it.

"Someone likely spit in it," he said.

"No, they would not disobey my command."

"And they just _love_ you, don't they?" he said spitefully, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes," she replied calmly. "They do love me, because I treat them with the same love – and respect – that I myself am deserved."

"And I deserve none of it, is that it?" His voice was rising, but warbling slightly.

"You _are_ loved, my son. But you need to give it in return," she tried, but he scoffed. She continued hesitantly. "...To more than just one mortal creature."

Loki instantly knocked the meal set on the table aside in fury, the food and wine flying across the room and onto the floor in a huge mess. Frigga's image disappeared instantly, her face full of sadness and concern before it vanished. Loki continued to rage, throwing things around his cell and watching several items burn against the magic barriers. When he was done, he collapsed on the floor, put an image of himself reading in the corner up to fool the guards, and screamed into nothingness. They could not hear him, nor see him beneath his magic – that was how he preferred it. After his scream came the tiniest of sobs.

_I will not lose this battle,_ he thought.

But he did, and gave in to angry weeping.


	3. What have I done?

It was impossible for Lyanne to know how long she had been a captive of HYDRA. She was still coming to terms with the fact that she was just one of their creations – the "allergy medication" testing had just been a front for their experimentation. They had succeeded with the soldier they made her fight every so often, it appeared, but they had wanted to branch out. When she joined the Avengers – and SHIELD – they found her. Her time with Loki had protected her from their clutches... if only the two of them hadn't gone after the false power gem... She twisted and turned in her cage, restless and frightened.

_Such thoughts don't help,_ her mind tried to reason. _Whatever will be, will be,_ she tried. But it was of no use – her mantra didn't matter anymore, what she was doing in HYDRA didn't matter, the fact that she was lonely, hurt, tired, bitter, monstrous – none of it mattered. All that did was that she was helpless. She was going to die there, she knew it. The one person who could save her – or would ever want to – was in an impossible prison himself. Whenever she tried to resign herself to her fate, however, the anger and sadness once more welled up inside of her, making her feel as though there was a second monster beneath her skin trying to claw its way out. She whimpered again, the whimper of a wounded animal, all that was left of her. She didn't often even bother with her human form anymore – that was the second skin, the false face. She wasn't Lyanne Brooks, Loki's lover, former Avenger – all that was left was a weak monster that cried pathetically in the dark.

Suddenly, she heard the thick metal door to the dark room containing her cage open. Brisk footsteps approached from behind and stopped in front of her cell.

_Is it breakfast time already?_ she thought. She could have sworn she had just tried to go to sleep – but then again, she could never correctly recall when she had eaten, slept, bathed, fought. Maybe she had gotten a good night's rest and just forgotten about it.

"Get up," said a man's voice. "We found you a friend." His voice didn't sound kind at all, but she rolled around and faced him. He unlocked the cage, holding the door open with one hand and brandishing an electrified pole in the other, just in case she tried anything. She knew better. She was a supplicant dog, here only to please her masters. She slunk out of the cage on all fours, not making eye contact, her tail between her legs.

"Good dog," he said, giving her a swift kick in the side. "Now get going."

She padded along silently on two feet to where he led her, which was yet another room with a one-sided mirror and a speaker box on the ceiling. Or maybe it was the same one she had always used – she decided it didn't matter and entered, where a bound man was kneeling on the floor, struggling and sweating. His black hair was long and lanky and for one beautiful moment Lyanne thought it could be Loki, but when the man raised his face and knelt in a more upright position, she could plainly see that it wasn't him. His eyes were a cold brown, set deeply into a square-jawed and bearded face, his powerful muscles bulging through the torn white shirt he wore. He looked at Lyanne in sheer surprise, while the soldier who had led her there pulled out a knife and cut the man's gag and bindings, picking them up off the floor and leaving the room, locking it behind him. After a moment of awkwardness, his voice shouted from above them through the speakers.

"Teach this man how it works here."

Lyanne was puzzled, turning her head to the side, until she realized she was supposed to fight him. She wanted to retort, "He's helpless," but kept her muzzle shut and merely stared at her opponent. The man stared back at her wordlessly for a moment, confused, but suddenly he bent over in pain, clutching his sides as his shirt finally tore to pieces and black fur began to grow along his whole body. His hands ended in claws and his snout grew and Lyanne realized with a mixture of awe and horror that he had been given the same serum as she. After a moment, breathing heavily and growling, the man-turned-beast stood shakily, glaring at her with acid-green eyes and baring his teeth. He launched himself at her and she whipped immediately to the side, he whizzed by her and rounded, snarling. He lunged again but she sidestepped him once more, more curious than aggressive.

"_Fight,"_ the man commanded from above.

And for one brave moment of clarity, Lyanne decided to simply sit down and face her captives behind the mirror. The other monster in the room watched her, confused, but did not attack. If nothing mattered anymore, she decided, then she would just stop caring.

"Fight or you will be punished!" the man shouted through the speaker. She held her head high, closing her eyes and continuing her refusal. "Finish her," he commanded the monster in disgust.

The green-eyed beast leaped for her throat with his teeth, Lyanne intending to let him attack her and be done with everything, but something peculiar happened – she was no longer in control of her actions. She felt her body reach up and catch the other monster's throat with her claws, using his momentum to swing him above her head and back down onto the floor on the opposite side of her. Lyanne felt her body stand, but she watched it as if from a hazy dream. The beast attacked her again but she snapped forward, catching his throat in her teeth, and bit down as hard as she could until she felt hot, salty blood spray into her mouth and around her muzzle, as though she had popped a tomato between her fangs. He struggled for a moment, thrashing in her grip before suddenly shivering, his body going limp and long snout going slack, tongue lolling out and green eyes staring at nothing. Lyanne looked over to the mirror to look at her captors, but saw only herself, or what was _left_ of herself – white fur covered in blood, pupils constricted, her prey hanging from her mouth like a dead rabbit. Something clicked within her and she dropped her opponent's body to the floor in horror.

_What have I done?!_

She gaped at her reflection, not recognizing herself, a strange ripple going through her.

"Well done, Lyanne," the man sang from above her.

_Who's Lyanne?_

The door opened and several soldiers entered, bearing various weapons such as poles and clubs. She growled angrily, threatened – the original soldier who had retrieved her earlier smacked his electrified pole in his hands.

"Don't even _think_ about it," he said, but she was beyond comprehending.

She lunged at the soldiers, catching one in each clawed hand and throwing them back into the others, roaring and flicking her tail behind her angrily. The man with the electrified pole swung at her but she ducked with preternatural quickness, whipping back around and biting his leg hard enough to snap the bone. He cried out in pain and a female soldier clubbed her across the back of her head hard enough for Lyanne to see stars, but she reached up and grabbed the woman's arm, twisting it back behind her until she heard another snap and the woman shrieked and collapsed. Two more of the guards attacked but Lyanne clawed them across the faces, blood pouring down as they fell. She bit another soldier that was merely back against the wall, afraid, piercing his shoulder and making him scream, but something stabbed her in the side, shocking the two of them, the pain making her release her prey. She twisted around quickly to face the man whose leg she had broken, but he jabbed her with the electric pole again, amped up enough this time to finally immobilize her. She writhed on the ground, but he injected her with something quickly and she fell into blackness.


	4. Loki regrets a question

Loki paced his cell mindlessly, bored. It was difficult to keep his mind occupied without company, loathe as he was to admit it. He could speak to his fellow inmates in the cells across the dark stone hallway, but he knew they would provide him with no satisfactory conversation. He heard their mutters – some of these men he had helped Thor imprison himself. _Better times? _Loki smirked and laughed, shaking his head. _Sentimental fool,_ he scolded, though not too harshly. He sat back down on his bed with a sigh – how long had he been imprisoned? There was no daylight here, only the artificial blinding white kind – they were dimmed at night, but Loki struggled to recall how many times he had witnessed the cycle of brighten and dim, brighten and dim. If he had to guess, he would assume it had been a few months. Not that time really mattered to one as long-lived as he, but it was still comforting to be able to keep track of the days, weeks, months, and eventually what would become years and centuries. Millenia. He wondered whether Thor would ever visit, once his mother passed. He doubted it highly, but it made his anger at Thor stronger and it felt good to hate and despise. It made his heart race pleasantly with adrenaline. With thoughts of Thor, however, soon came thoughts of his father, and of course, mother. And eventually his mind wandered off to _her... _ Lyanne. He sneered and tried to shove it away – if by any luck he would ever be freed, she would be long dead. Short mortal lifespans were a blessing until it was someone he didn't wish to die just yet. If ever.

He blew air out in a grumbling sigh, trying once more to focus on something else.

_I'll never see her again, so she doesn't matter anymore._

He wished he could believe himself. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, pressing hard until he saw an expanding darkness that slowly disintegrated back into normal vision. He didn't like to admit it, but he wished his mother would visit again... it had been days, or at least felt like it. Maybe a week, or more? He stood up and walked over to the glistening wall, being careful not to touch it, but trying to catch the eye of a guard. He whistled sharply at one of them, but the man simply kept walking by on patrol, purposely ignoring him. Angered, Loki grabbed one of his chairs and tossed it into the wall, producing a shower of magical sparks and an acrid burning smell, accompanied by a shrill buzzing, burning noise. The guard ran back and approached, spear at the ready, but Loki merely pulled the sizzling chair back and grinned at the guard.

"Now that I have your attention, tell my mother I have tired of these books she's sent me."

"I am not your servant, traitor," the guard spat, but walked away, said something to another guard, and retreated upstairs. The new guard watched him intently until after a few minutes, when Loki got bored and laid back down on his bed. Minutes and finally what must have at least been an hour passed before the lights suddenly dimmed for the evening and Loki figured she wasn't coming. He rolled over and fell into a restless sleep.

The lights were still dimmed when Loki awoke to the sound of his mother's voice. She sounded angry, and he sat up slowly on his mattress. The guard reluctantly backed away from her in the hallway and she moved her fingers in an intricate pattern Loki could not follow. She glowed amber for a moment before stepping into his cell – _herself,_ not just her illusion. Loki stood up and she approached him with open arms. He appeared to reluctantly fall into her hug, but in truth, it felt good to have contact with another being again. He broke apart quickly, but Frigga motioned for the cell to appear as though she wasn't there.

"Keeping up appearances, Loki?" she asked, chiding him slightly.

He gave a half-hearted shrug and sat down on the chair he had burned earlier. Frigga saw with displeasure what he had done, but didn't mention it beyond telling him she would have a new one brought to him. He nodded shortly in thanks, but remained silent.

"Too proud to admit you missed me?" she asked softly.

She often saw more deeply into her adopted son's heart than he liked.

"I'm growing weary here," he said. "I should have taken the axe."  
"You didn't have a choice," she reminded him.  
"Thanks for that," he muttered, not sure if he really was grateful.  
"I do what I can to protect my sons," she said.  
"You have but one," he pouted. "I am just a spare."  
"If that were true, why would I be here?"

Loki looked away from her gaze.

"You did want me here for a reason," she said. "The guard said you wanted more books."  
"I needed to make a request, actually," he admitted, raising his eyes to meet hers once more.

To his surprise, she sighed and nodded sadly.

"I know what you want to ask," she said. "I'm actually quite surprised you didn't ask sooner."  
"And what am I going to ask you?" he asked softly.  
"You want me to find out if she's safe."

Loki suddenly felt a flash of anger.

"You knew what I was going to ask since my first day here?" he asked incredulously, his voice rising.  
"Yes," she confessed in a hushed tone.  
"Then why didn't you tell me?" he nearly shouted.  
"Because you... the answer..." She fell off, looking at him sadly. His stomach dropped.  
"She's... not dead, is she?"  
"I wish I could say," she whimpered, reaching forward and grabbing his hand.  
"What do you mean?" he asked dangerously.  
"Heimdall cannot see her. She must be being kept someplace _very_ secure, with magical protections to bar our sight."

Loki yanked his hand away from under hers and began pacing his cell irritably.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he snapped.  
"What good would it have done?" she retorted. "What could you possibly do here in this cell but worry?"  
"Then why tell me now?"  
"Because you wanted to know."

Loki shuddered and felt his legs go somewhat numb beneath him.

"How long since you've checked...?"  
"I've asked Heimdall to look almost every week," she said. "I came from him just moments ago."  
"Because you knew I was going to ask?"  
"Yes."

Loki was almost afraid to ask the next question, but he needed to know.

"And just how long has it been?"  
"Three months."

The shock of it hit him hard and he sat back down in his singed chair. _Three months. _Lyanne had been missing for_ three months._

"Almost four, Loki," she added. "It's close to the new year on Earth."  
"Wintertime."  
"Yes.

Loki pictured her buried beneath six feet of earth and another several feet of snow, her corpse falling to pieces. The thought made him physically ill and he held his stomach in pain.

"If she was... if she was dead..."  
"Heimdall would have been able to see her body," Frigga said.  
"Unless they were able to hide it from his sight."  
"Why would they bother if she was already deceased?" she tried comforting, but Loki turned and scrunched his face.

Frigga stood from her chair and ran over to her son, wrapping her arms about him as he broke down and wept into her shoulder with loud, racking sobs.


	5. It won't be obedient

_Wham._

Another hard hit from the soldier's baton struck Lyanne square in the jaw, shaking her teeth and making her stumble backwards against the wall. The man advanced and held the club up.

"Are you ready to play nice yet?"

Lyanne snarled and spat blood at his feet.

_Crack._

He clubbed her hard across the face, her eye swelling shut almost instantly as she was knocked to the floor.

"Don't break anything," another bored HYDRA soldier said from the corner, looking at his nails and shaking his blonde hair back from his forehead. "We might need it intact."

"It's been _weeks_," the baton-wielder snapped. "She's fucking useless."

The bored blonde shrugged.

"Maybe she's finally lost it," he said. "She hasn't been in human form for weeks, hasn't done anything except slam against her cage and growl. I'm surprised she eats or drinks."  
"I guess_ it_ still wants to live," he said with disgust, giving the crumpled, panting form of Lyanne a backwards glance. "But what the hell do we use it for if it won't be obedient?"

"Meat?" the blonde suggested.

Both men started laughing. It was a somewhat nervous laugh – all the effort they put into turning this beast into a weapon was going to waste. She fought and snarled, tried to attack any of the guards that came near her, didn't talk and had remained in her monstrous form for nearly a month. If they were going to get through, they probably would have done so already. A toy isn't any fun if it's broken.

"Captain said if she's not fixed by tonight, we'll have to dispose of her somehow."

The blonde shrugged again.

"Let's see what he wants us to do."

The guard with the baton took one more look at the beast in front of him and swung his club straight into her ribs – not hard enough to break any, but still hard enough to make her to yelp in pain and finally collapse completely. The two men secured the room, locking it tightly and walking down the long corridors to their captain's office. A quick rap at the door was followed by a clipped response of "Get in here."

They faced their captain, a broad, nervous man with black hair that was graying far too early for his age. His black uniform was neatly pressed and clean, decorated with various medals and honors. The room was small, with metal walls upon which hung various charts and photographs, his metal cabinets topped with stacks of unsorted files, and a small desk with a computer, illuminated by a single rusty lamp. He was leaning over his desk in frustration, looking at a monitor that displayed an image of the possibly unconscious Lyanne, curled into the fetal position on the floor of the room the guards had left her in.

"You couldn't break her again?" he asked quietly.

The men looked at each other for a moment before responding.

"It's been almost a month, sir. I – I don't think she'll recuperate."

Their captain sighed in disappointment.

"All that money and time – wasted!" he cried, smacking the lamp off of his desk and shattering it, the stink of broken light bulb filling the small room.

"What do you want us to do with it?" the club-holding soldier asked.

"I might be able to find someone willing to pay," he said, licking his lips eagerly. "Having... _unique _connections means I can make quite a deal on the black market..."  
"You don't mean...?" the blonde asked quickly, but silenced himself.

Their captain turned around angrily, glaring at them for the interruption.

"Many heroes of our organization helped pave the way to worlds other than ours, long ago," he mentioned, but didn't elaborate further. Some things could not be trusted with lesser initiates. "Leave me."

The two men complied and shut the door behind them. The captain took a key from a ring he kept in a pocket on the inside of his uniform, using it to open one of the dilapidated filing cabinets behind his desk. He reached in and cautiously retrieved a large, dirty metal box. It looked ancient and yet futuristic at the same time, and he placed it carefully by his computer, pressing a button. It hummed to life slowly, but a translucent screen appeared in front of him, giving coordinates and options in a foreign language. He pressed several portions of the floating screen, it glowed green, and an image of a decaying, metallic floating head the size of a dwarf planet floated in front of him. He smiled and began to type a message.


	6. Who am I kidding?

Loki lay still on his bed, twiddling his thumbs and thinking back to a time in his youth, back before their father had chosen a successor and Loki still believed his parents were really his own.

_Thor's long blonde hair was being combed back and put into a neat braid behind him, the young, pretty servant sighing as she ran her fingers through his golden locks. Loki entered the room and suddenly her smile became a scowl._

"_Your brother, my lord," she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the disdain out of her voice._

"_Leave us," Loki commanded her with an ugly look._

"_But..." she tried gesturing to Thor's unfinished braid._

"_You dare question your prince?" Loki asked dangerously._

"_No... m'lord," she added quickly, looking away from him and skittering out of the room. He watched her leave with distaste. Thor sighed and shook his long hair back out, the half-braid pointless to keep._

"_You really ought to learn better social skills, my brother," Thor said with an admonishing look._

"_She's not here to be _my_ friend," he sneered. "She's here to serve."_

_Thor shook his head with a smile, wrapping an arm around his slighter brother, both of them just out of adolescence and entering young adulthood. Thor was already growing a slight beard, his blue eyes twinkling from his handsome face. Loki felt both jealousy and adoration, and the conflicting emotions left a sour taste on his tongue._

"_If you learn to give your love instead of demanding it from others, you might win more hearts," Thor said in a friendly tone. Loki shoved him away._

"_The only reason anyone is _your_ friend is because they think you would hurt them otherwise."_

"_As if your magic tricks wouldn't inspire the same fear? Oh, wait, they wouldn't."_

"_You don't speak so disparagingly of them to mother," Loki challenged._

"_She is a woman – her deceptive arts are second nature. You have learned a lady's craft. What's next? Sewing? Washing clothes?"_

"_Father knows magic as well, even more powerful than mother's!"_

"_He _has_ to because he is King. He wants to appeal to all his subjects."_

"_And if you plan on becoming a king, would you not be required to have the same knowledge?"_

"What father does, he does because he thinks that's what he needs to do to gain the respect of his subjects."

"_Then what would you do?" Loki curled his lip in disgust, shaking slightly in anger._

"_Lead with an iron fist, brother, and you won't need to learn lowly tricks."_

_Loki threw a punch so fast Thor could not avoid it and it connected with a meaty thud against his cheek. He backed away, startled but not really hurt, scowling. Thor looked at his younger, scrawnier brother, holding his fists up for a fight – then he burst out laughing, clapping Loki on the shoulder on the way out his room to search for the servant girl once more, though not to have his hair braided this time. Loki lowered his fists in disappointment, but kept them clenched._

_Some day I will show you what real power is, "brother."_

Present-day Loki gave a small laugh at the memory.

_How little I knew then,_ he thought. _How much I know now – and yet still it's not enough to have kept me from this cell._

He grabbed at another book to occupy his time, trying in vain to concentrate on the words in front of him but failing. He had read the same paragraph about eight times before finally admitting defeat and sitting up on the bed, splashing cool water on his face from the washbasin beside his bed and staring at his gaunt reflection.

_Who am I kidding?_

_How little I know now._


	7. Lyanne is purchased

When Lyanne awoke this time, she found herself in an unfamiliar place. Her brain did not function with reason anymore, not like she had as a human; now she only felt, experiencing dizzying highs and thick lows of emotion, not understanding the process behind it but merely living it. She did not think in words or civilized thoughts anymore, memories were harder to recall (and confusing besides), and language meant nothing except the noises her captors made. But feel she could, and feel she did, and what she was experiencing most of all now wasn't simply confusion, but fear, for in front of her lay the inside of a small, dilapidated spaceship that was rapidly approaching what appeared to be a metallic head, other ships flying in and out of it. She approached the bars of her cage, but received an unpleasant and wholly painful shock once she touched it. Howling in rage, she backed away, nursing her hurt paw and growling at anyone who would hear it.

"Settle down back there," someone yelled.

She didn't understand and kept growling, trying to pace her cage but finding it too small. She roared and snarled, but the crew continued ignoring her and she gazed at her surroundings. Most of the ship was bare, save for some rusted holes, bits of trash, a few empty leather seats and an unfamiliar man to her left, dozing on and off with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was older, with short, neat black hair that was turning silver at the forehead and temples, his miraculously crease-less uniform emblazoned with the HYDRA emblem and several decorations. He raised his red, watery eyes to her and she bared her fangs, a sliver of drool falling to her feet and hitting the bottom of her cage with a faint _ping._ He smirked and stood with a soft grunt, approaching the pilots at the front of the craft.

"Are we almost there?" he asked anxiously.

"Nearly," the pilot said in an irritated voice. "Docking in three standard minutes."

Lyanne looked and noticed the two pilots were not of a familiar species – she couldn't dwell on it too hard, losing focus almost immediately and curling onto the floor of her cage to await the unknown ahead of her. No longer recalling words, various images flashed through her mind. She flicked her ears in anger and confusion – these images didn't fit in with her current state and it was frustrating to have them surface. She didn't know what it meant, but a man with long black hair, blue eyes, and a wicked grin kept swimming in her thoughts. She huffed through her snout and tried to focus on the stars and spaceport outside the front window, getting closer every moment.

After a few minutes, having docked and declared cargo, the pilots talked briefly with the HYDRA captain before some kind of paper and coin passed between them.

"More units where those came from if you can tell me where to bring this," he said, gesturing to Lyanne, adding, "And help me translate."

The pilots gave instructions and the older man gave them some jewels. He motioned for something inside the ship, and Lyanne saw several soldiers surround her cage, two with metal, electrified poles with hoops on the end. They opened the bars and before Lyanne could even consider attacking, they threw the loops around her neck and shocked her. She understood _that._ Though she growled angrily the whole time, she allowed them to lead her through the bustling marketplace without trouble. Eventually they reached an even dirtier, darker area that smelled like must and rancid spices, several unsavory characters examining her with interest. Most ignored her entirely, but several different groups of strange-looking creatures spoke in unfamiliar tongues with the pilots, debating back and forth. In the end however, they always shook their heads in disbelief and left, Lyanne giving threatening snarls as they came and went.

"What's wrong?" asked the old HYDRA captain shakily.

"They do not like your price," the pilot said. "It is too high for an animal that is so disobedient it cannot even be used for labor."

"Do you know what I had to go through to arrange for this?" the man whined.

"We don't care," the co-pilot said. "Your planet is primitive and so are your customs. You are lucky we even came to pick you up."

"I paid good units for you," the man said nastily. "Of course you would show up."

"Good money to _you_ – we needed the job, but you may as well have paid us in piss. Speaking of which," he said, gesturing to a nearby seedy-looking building. "This is where we part until you are ready to go back to Earth."

"You said you would help me sell this beast!" he shouted, pleading.

"Lower your price and you'll find a buyer. That is my help."

The two odd pilots left for what looked like a dirty bar, leaving the HYDRA captain and his soldiers with Lyanne roped between them.

"Now what?" asked an agent.

The captain punched him in the mouth. The crew grew restless, tensing and preparing for a fight with their near-crazed captain, but a soft, sweet voice from above called down to them.

"Gentlemen, my master would have your presence at his museum. He commanded that you bring the animal with you."

They all glanced up to see a prim but nervous pink-skinned girl gesturing to the staircase upon which she stood and to an illuminated hallway beyond.

"We don't follow anyone's _commands,_" spat the captain.

"My master would like to inspect the beast. He is the purchaser of many rare oddities throughout the galaxy, and a very... _generous _man." Her last words seemed to come out with slight acidity.

The captain did not trust any man who wouldn't show his face to those he would call on as guests, but supposed they had little choice. They followed the pink girl in her tiny clothes up the stairs, down the hallway, through another marketplace, and in through round glass doors that led to an awe-inspiring sight. Dozens and dozens – possibly _hundreds_ of glass displays adorned the walls, stood in the middle of the floor, and hung from the ceiling. There were creatures and plants the likes of which none of them had ever seen, though precious few things did hold some familiarity. There was a gigantic blue butterfly that looked frozen in place on an unfamiliar plant, a long golden box with ancient symbols that looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie, and even, to the captain's surprise, a live dodo bird. It squawked lazily and pecked at the substrate in its small glass cage.

"Greetings, sirs," a man with a thick accent said. He had a bizarre, golden-white hairstyle with thick, sharp eyebrows, pointed ears, and a dark stripe on his lower lip. His startling blue eyes stood out against the rich, velvety black robes he was wearing, trimmed with white fur and a giant blue sapphire on a silver chain that hung from his neck and rested against his tight stomach.

"Taneleer Tivan, my master, the Collector, greets you as friends," said the pink girl, bowing and making a grand gesture.

The HYDRA captain thought it was a wasted, over-the-top drama, but knew better than to say so when there was potential money to be had.

"I'm Captain Albert Connors, of Earth. Hail HYDRA," he said, making the standard gesture.

Tivan gave him a smirk and made no more premise but began inspecting the monster before him.

"What is so special about this," he asked, gesturing to Lyanne. He appeared bored, and she growled at him lightly.

"She's a one-of-a-kind animal from our planet," Connors tried to lie, hoping for more money.

"Do not mistake my flamboyance and passion for naivete. This is _not_ a naturally occurring Earth creature."

"Well," the captain backpedaled slightly, out of his element. "She is – er, _was_ a human. Experimentation made her a highly unique and prized being."

"Then why part with her?"

"We require a weapon of great strength," he said, suddenly confident again. "Or the means to buy one."

"What is your price?" he asked with disinterest, going over Lyanne slowly with his sharp blue eyes.

"Eight hundred thousand units," the captain said proudly, "Or a weapon of immense power."

"Too high," the Collector immediately said, turning away with a flourish, his fur-lined cape swishing behind him. "You have my leave."

"Wait!" the captain cried, suddenly desperate again. "Five hundred thousand!"

Tivan smiled to himself, his back still to the men and their beast. He spun on his polished heels to face them again, the smirk having vanished from his features in an instant. He took a thin metal rod from a pocket in his robe and extended it quickly, using it to gesture to Lyanne without getting too close.

"First off, _gentlemen,_ this creature – she is in poor health. Too skinny, bruised and beaten, an eye is slightly swollen – her fur is dirty and her clothes are torn." He gently prodded her snout, lifting one of her lips with the rod before she snapped at him angrily, earning her a smart shock from the wires around her neck. She growled again, baring her teeth, and the Collector prodded once more into her mouth with his tool. "See her teeth? They are fine, lucky for you, but her gums – _tsk tsk._" He walked around her one more time, inspecting her haunches and claws, her eyes, her matted mane and dusty fur. He gave her thighs a light smack with the wiry pointer he was holding and she let out an irritated rumble, wanting to strike but unable. He tutted and shook his head. "Too skinny, too dirty, too feral for labor – you'd be lucky to get someone to give you a broken ship for her. No, I shall not buy."

The captain looked to his crew and Lyanne, then back to Tivan, who was climbing a staircase into the back of the museum.

"Wait!" he cried, quickly and begrudgingly adding, "Sir."

Tivan turned back and raised an eyebrow.

"Make me an offer," Connors practically begged, hanging his head slightly and gritting his teeth.

The Collector smiled inwardly but kept his poker face as he walked back down the steps again.

"For a creature as abused and terribly disobedient as this one," he said, sneering a little, "I shall pay one hundred thousand. And consider that incredibly generous. I assume she's housebroken?"

"Yes, fully," the captain said, insulted by the offer but all too willing to unload her. Units were worth nearly double of the highest-value Earth currency, and Lyanne would be too easy to trace back to HYDRA if she stayed on their planet, especially if SHIELD tried to discover her whereabouts. It was best to be rid of her and let her become a possible wardrobe for this swishy alien with the strange accent.

"What does she eat? Any restrictions?"

"Uh..."

"Hmph," he muttered in contempt. "No wonder she is so sickly. No matter."

"Here are her files," the captain said, handing over a somewhat thick folder that contained all her data and several pictures. Tivan examined them for a moment, closed the file and tossed it lackadaisically onto a desk to the side.

"Her Earth beginnings are no matter to me," he said. "I'll likely keep her in one of the out-of-the-way cells, away from guests. She is not of great interest."

Tivan reached into his robe once more, pulling out the paper units and handing them over with boredom. He waved the men away, out of his museum. Captain Connors and his crew looked about them in confusion.

"What do you want us to do with it?" he asked, gesturing to Lyanne.

"Leave her there," he said, not looking at them. "I'll take care of everything."

The men raised their eyebrows but said nothing, unlooping their poles and setting off without so much as a final look at their former captive. When they were gone, Lyanne stood in confusion for a moment, not understanding what had happened. After coming to somewhat of a conclusion, she roared and leaped at Tivan. He whirled around and grabbed her fluidly by her matted purple hair, scruffing her painfully and forcing her down on all fours. He was stronger than he looked, and the more she fought, the harder he squeezed, until finally, tears in her eyes, she whimpered and slackened.

"Now then," he said. "That's better. I doubt you can understand even basic tongues anymore, but you will learn to respect me. I am your new master, and you are now part of my collection."

He gave her mane one more rough shake before a clear glass cell descended from the ceiling and he threw her unceremoniously inside. She howled and tossed herself immediately against the glass, trying in vain to smash through it, roaring and clawing in desperation. Tivan smirked and motioned for his servant, Carina, to raise the lever to lift her cage back into the air. As she did so, he began examining her file in earnest, finding things of little importance therein... until he reached the back of her file. Usually the most recent information was presented in a file first, so to come across it last was a bit of a surprise. He gave it a passing glance, raised his eyebrows, then read over it again more slowly.

"Well, well, well," he said with interest. "I should say I got a good deal for you after all..." He checked her file again. "...Lyanne."

He made Carina drop the glass box back down, more carefully than he might have done just two minutes before, inspecting her with more interest.

"I would have paid much more had he told me who your lover was," he said with a sly grin. "But I guess it was just my lucky day to get such a _deal,_ mistress of the Prince of Mischief."

He chuckled softly and Lyanne growled behind the glass of her cage.


	8. Loki sees a familiar face

"Loki," called another voice. It was a female, but not his mother. He raised his eyes from his book and looked about him. His eyes suddenly focused on a familiar face in the cell next to his, across the hall.

"Amora," he sneered.

She bowed her head lightly in a friendly recognition he wasn't sure why she bothered extending.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Only discussion," she called.

Loki closed his book, rolling his eyes but secretly celebrating some conversation... even if it was with an enemy. He faced her cell and gave her an expectant look.

"Well?" he asked.

She sniffed and dusted off her clean clothes – she looked to be in quite good health here, far better than she had looked in Midgard. Her hair had a golden sheen again, flowing elegantly about her shoulders, and her high cheeks were flushed a pleasant, healthy red.

"How are you?" she started awkwardly.

"How do you think?" he snapped.

"Okay, that was pretty awful," she said, scratching her head.

"What do you want?" he asked again, more sternly this time.

"I wanted to ask a favor."

"I don't think either of us are in a position to..."

"Hear me out," she interrupted, holding up a hand and taking a deep breath. "You know that things have been getting ugly in the nine realms."

Loki nodded irritably.

"Well then, you know it's only a matter of time before something catastrophic happens."

Loki looked at her with real interest now.

"There are rumors," she said, whispering conspiratorially – Loki didn't know why she bothered, the guards would likely be able to hear them no matter what. She continued. "Rumors that... eventually... Asgard will be overtaken."

"You mean Ragnarok?" he scoffed. "Because I've heard all the prophecies..."

"No no no, stupid," she snapped. Loki balked, but allowed her to continue. "It's only a matter of time before these cells become overcrowded – they moved me here temporarily while they split my old one in two. I'll be back in my smaller cell by tomorrow, down on the other end," she pointed all the way to the opposite side of the prison hall. "But you know your ways in and out of this palace, this realm. Better than I," she admitted quickly, quietly. "Promise me something."

"Why should I?"

"I'll make you one in return."

"You know promises mean nothing from either of us," he said in candor.

"Be that as it may – does it hurt? Make me an oath and I swear I shall make one to you – one that I fully intend to keep."

Loki rolled his eyes again, but nodded.

"My sister, Lorelei, is imprisoned here as well," she said sadly. "We haven't always... been on the best of terms... but she is still my family."

Loki thought briefly of Thor – were his brother imprisoned here as well, and their places mirrored those of Lorelei and Amora, would either of them be so merciful as to ask for their enemy's help for the other? He highly doubted it.

"If this break shall happen, and her powers released, promise me – please – you will do all you can to protect her."

"You mean if _both_ of us escape?" He laughed, deeply and loudly, making Amora's face flush a deep red.

"Do this and I can hunt down Lyanne," she said.

Loki immediately stopped laughing and examined the Enchantress.

"Do not toy with me, or if I do escape I'll have your sister ravaged by a frost giant."

Amora glared and stood back up, crossing a symbol over her heart despite Loki's threat.

"I can go back to Earth with my powers fully restored once the Bifrost is repaired and this pitiful place overthrown, and I swear I will tear the planet apart trying to find her. My powers to create thralls shall serve me well – the same as my sister's powers – and together we can find your lover. But promise us _both_ protection," she said. "And a place in the palace should you claim the throne."

"In that _highly unlikely_ scenario... yes," he agreed, making the same symbol over his heart, "I will honor what you ask. But see that Lyanne comes to no harm – or I'll have you _both_ violated and thrown into a boiling lake."

"Done," she said, settling back down as a guard came over to investigate and break up the conversation.

_Like any of this will ever happen,_ he thought.


	9. How to soothe the savage beast

It had been several days and Lyanne was starving. She paced her new, generously-sized cell angrily, her hunger making her more and more irritable by the second. Tivan had not fed her in almost a week and her formerly lustrous coat was turning dull, her ribs becoming more prominent. She growled and panted, pacing back and forth again impatiently, keeping an eye on her surroundings. When she saw Tivan and his pink assistant Carina approach her cell, a sizable box in the girl's hands, she roared and began banging against the glass, scraping her claws against it in an obnoxious screeching sound.

"Now observe, Carina, how to soothe the savage beast," he said mildly, pressing a button to release Lyanne from her cage. Carina tossed the box on the nearest table and dove for cover. As soon as the door opened and fresher air greeted her, Lyanne threw herself out of the cell and directly at Tivan. He reached quickly inside the box and swiftly retrieved what looked like a fresh, bloody piece of meat. Lyanne's eyes went wide with desire, and in an instant she was lunging for the meat instead of her new master, but he twisted away and kept it out of reach. She loped around him, trying desperately to get the food from his hand, but his smooth turns and fancy footwork played like an elegant, energetic dance around her and she was no closer to retrieving the meat than she had been in her cell. He grabbed her hair with his free hand and she snarled at first, freezing in place and tossing a defiant eye, but one look from Tivan and she squatted down submissively, looking at the floor, her lips still curled.

"Easy," he said sternly.

Lyanne relaxed, little by little by little, until eventually she sat down, completely still and obedient. Her stomach rumbled anxiously and Tivan lowered the meat close down to her snout. She looked up at him before reaching for it, he gave a small nod, and she took it gingerly in her mouth. Once he released her, however, she began gobbling it up quickly, bones snapping in her powerful jaws and pink juice running down her fur.

Tivan laughed and clapped in triumph, ordering a bath for her before going to wash his own hands. Carina stepped out from behind a desk cautiously and motioned for Lyanne to follow her, but Lyanne, already finished with her meal, shot her an angry glare and the pink girl backed off fearfully.

"Lyanne!" shouted the Collector. "Come!"

Lyanne obeyed dutifully, ears back behind her lowered head, padding over to him on two legs and looking at the floor.

"That's it," he cooed. "Come on."

He had Carina draw the bath, but threw Lyanne in himself, placing fresh clothes beside the tub and leaving the room to allow her privacy. She was _still_ a sentient creature deep down, after all, he reasoned. No reason to shame the poor thing. After several minutes he sent Carina in after her to make sure everything was ok, which thankfully it was. Krylorian slaves were easy enough to come by, but it would still be irritating to break in a new servant. He also did not want his newest acquisition acquiring a taste for fresher meat. Almost ten more minutes passed before the pair emerged, Lyanne's fur still damp and matted and Carina bearing several superficial scratches along her arms.

"Clean yourself," he ordered the pink girl, opening his arms wide for Lyanne.

Carina huffed back to the water closet to attend to her wounds, while Tivan sat on a large, plush throne and gestured for Lyanne to sit at his feet, which she did after a moment's hesitation.

"Don't fear me," he said, and something suddenly jolted quickly inside of her, the grinning man's face swimming before her again. A dark-haired girl trembled in his embrace. It disintegrated from her thoughts slowly however, and eventually it was like it never happened. She felt something slick through her hair and jumped, but Tivan forced her back down and showed her an ivory-colored brush with golden bristles.

"I cannot have my new pet looking like street vermin," he said, combing her violet locks gently. Her entire body was rigid and stiff at first, every nerve at attention, but his airy humming and gentle brushing soon made her relax. Eventually she rested her chin upon his knees and he laughed, patting her head softly.

"Good girl," he said. "You're a fine addition indeed."


	10. Eternity is an awfully long time

Loki lay across his bed, staring at the bright ceiling and mindlessly shredding his sheets into strips. He heard guards passing by his cell without so much as a pause to look at him anymore – he supposed the novelty of guarding the imprisoned man they had formerly had to serve had worn off. It _had_ been almost a year, after all.

_Almost a year..._

He dwelt on the thought for a moment. It must be summer by now, the spring blossoms around Asgard and in the palace courtyard having shed off the trees like snowflakes long ago, hard, unripe fruits taking their place.

_Where was I a year ago? Ah, yes... Midgard._

It had honestly been some time since he thought of the Avengers, or Thanos, or his short adventure with SHIELD. Lyanne floated to his consciousness, but it stung less and less as the year had passed and he could now think of her with a bare minimum of pain. Once he had come to terms with never seeing her again, it had become much easier to accept the loss. His mother had tried to keep him up to date on her and Heimdall's search for the girl, but she noticed with sadness that he had stopped asking, so she had stopped volunteering information.

_Whatever will be, will be, right my love?_ he thought, laughing a little.

The remembrance of her motto brought him more comfort than thoughts of the woman herself these days. Pushing the memories of her aside with practiced ease, he focused once more on the present and realized with some wonder that he had distractedly torn apart all of his sheets. He stood from the bed to check out his unintentional handiwork, trying to decide what to do now. He sat back down after a minute and began to weave them into a long, thick braid. He had been at it for a couple hours before his mother's image announced itself, the first time she had visited in quite some time.

"Mother," he said, acknowledging her without turning around.  
"Loki," she greeted, her figure walking around to see what he was working on.

She froze as she absorbed exactly what it was he was making.

"My son," she practically whispered. "What are you doing?"

Loki finally looked up at her.

"Occupying my mind," he said with a laugh.  
"You're not... you're not planning to _use_ that, are you?" she asked in horror.  
"Use it?" he asked incredulously.

Then it dawned on him – he was basically making a rope, and Frigga assumed he was going to hang himself. He glanced back up at her like a scolded child, somewhat lost. He tossed the braid away in sudden anger and stood before her.

"I am not so weak, mother," he snapped.

Frigga relaxed in relief.

"I shall have them bring you new bedding," she said, her image sitting down in one of the chairs by the small table. "And something else to occupy your time."

She and Loki spent nearly an hour together in his cell, Frigga doing the majority of the talking, mostly about petty matters and rumors that flew around Asgard like invisible birds. Loki kept glancing at the rope he had made, muttering acknowledgments and comments in response to his mother when it was appropriate. Eventually her image stood to take leave and he said goodbye with a false smile on his face. Frigga still showed some concern, but smiled back and promised to return in a week.

When her figure had left, Loki glanced about him, saw no one watching him, and walked over slowly to the thick braid he had made from his bedsheets. He bent over cautiously to pick it up, hesitant, as though fearful it would burn him. He lifted the rope and returned to sit on his bare bed, twisting the object in his hands, examining it.

_If I had truly wanted to end myself, I would merely have thrown my body into the barriers of my cell,_ he thought, suddenly becoming angry. _How dare she think me so weak?  
_

He sat for a minute, pondering.

_Still,_ he thought,_ eternity is an _awfully_ long time._

He looked at the rope again, then at the dangerous magical barriers surrounding him. He breathed slowly, in and out, thoughtful and serene.

_No,_ he finally decided. _I am no coward._

He stood proudly and tossed the braid into the magically electrified wall, turning it to cinders in an instant and throwing out his chest defiantly.

_I am Loki, of Asgard, and one day revenge shall be mine._


	11. Jealousy

The Collector was admiring a new specimen brought to him, examining the creature's four wings, brilliant green plumage and regal posture, raising his eyebrows behind a pair of glasses with golden telescopic lenses. The burly, blue-skinned man offering the strange animal crossed his arms proudly and the bird squawked, the pitch of its song causing immense pain to any within earshot and shattering a crystal goblet full of wine on a nearby table. Tivan uncovered his ears, laughing loudly and applauding. Money exchanged hands, and he forced the gorgeous bird into a soundproof glass cage on the wall with several other bizarre-looking creatures. Once the container door had been shut and the bird no longer able to be heard, Lyanne slunk out from the shadows to join her master. He smiled and scratched her head gently as he sat down to do both his monetary and inventory accounting. She emitted a happy purr and lay at his feet as he worked in his books. He removed his telescopic lenses, folding them back together and placing them on the table next to the broken goblet with a frown.

"CARINA!" he shouted.

The pink-skinned Krylorian ran over with small but quick steps, bowing at her master nervously.

"Clean this mess," he ordered, tossing a soggy set of papers in her direction.

"Yes, master," she mumbled, sparing a hateful glance at Lyanne as she turned away.

Tivan sighed and reached for his pet again. She lifted her snout to meet his hand, rubbing her head against his palm and allowing his fingers to slide through her purple mane. She had filled out nicely, her coat glossy and lustrous once more, her mane and tail full and flowing, her muscles taught. She made a stunning addition, but he could not bring himself to cage her – she had become his most adored pet, elegant and obedient, attracting more business and attention when museum customers or clients came to call. He did not always boast of her former connections, however; though she had been implanted with an advanced tracking device and Knowhere was heavily guarded, he did not want to tempt some of his more unsavory visitors, or, least of all, nosy Asgardians. He respected them, but did not want a single one sniffing about looking for their former prince's companion, mute and mindless though she was. He scratched under her chin and she purred more loudly, closing her eyes and resting her head on his knee.

"Ah!" he said, "I almost forgot again!"

He jumped up with a flourish and reached into a nearby cabinet, retrieving a small, dusty velvet bag.

"I was going to wait until you had been here a year, but after looking through your papers again, I realized I missed your birthday last month. Earth time runs differently than here," he said, gesturing to the plush bag with grandiosity. She looked at it with mild interest, expecting a treat like an obsequious dog (which was not an inaccurate comparison). Tivan rolled his eyes and gestured for her to stand, which she did, speechless as always. He had read through her information, finding out that before the Earth group HYDRA had done whatever they did to break her, she had once had fully-functioning thought and speech capabilities. He regretted somewhat that should would never be able to reason or talk again, but decided it was probably for the best. It was much easier to keep her obedient if she didn't have the intelligence or passion to fight back. Opening the drawstrings of the rich bag, he reached inside and procured a gem-studded leather collar large enough to fit around her neck. Inscribed on the inside of the neckband was Taneleer Tivan's name and the galactic coordinates for Knowhere, while the silver tag that hung from the belt bore Lyanne's name. He looped it around her throat and clipped it, the tag hanging against her collarbone. She looked at it quizzically, disappointed it was not something edible or useful, but sat back down at his feet and licked his hand all the same. He chuckled and stroked her fur while Carina looked on from the shadows, wringing a cloth in her hands.


	12. When do we start?

"Your mother the Queen is dead," said the guard.

Loki nodded curtly in acknowledgment, stood tensely, and waited until the guard had walked down the hall and back up the steps before erupting in rage. His magic burst from him violently, tossing everything in his cell, the glass table shattering and tossing food to the floor, metal goblets crumpling beneath his power, chairs shattering, books flying everywhere and tearing to pieces. Loki shouted amidst the chaos, not caring if anyone heard or saw – not that there were many prisoners left.

After a few minutes of destruction, Loki collapsed against the wall, physically and mentally exhausted. He noticed with disinterest that he had sliced his foot open and there was blood all over the floor, as well as black scuffs and marks against the wall where he had tossed his furniture against it. His heart was racing but he willed it to calm.

_The last thing you said to her was that she wasn't your mother._

Loki screamed in real earnest now, emptying himself in a primal shriek of rage and hurt. He threw his head back against the wall and sobbed.

* * *

He heard footsteps approaching and quickly threw up an image of himself merely pacing his undisturbed cell. Loki recognized his brother in an instant, despite his longer hair and thicker stubble. He had heard him earlier, in the dungeons, grappling with the escaped prisoners.

_I should have been one of them, _he thought bitterly. _I could have saved her._

_...But she might not have needed saving had I not told them where to go._

Another tear fell from his red, blotchy eyes, but he kept the false image up. Whether it was for his brother's benefit or his own, he could not say.

"Thor," he hissed. "After all this time... now you come to visit me. Why?" He made his copy glare hatefully at him. "Have you come to gloat? To mock?"

"Loki, enough," Thor snapped impatiently. "No more illusions."

He saw his brother's face, hurt but stern, determined. Loki let the image fade away, defeated.

"Now you see me, brother," he nearly mewed, still crumpled against the back wall.

He saw Thor taking in his disastrous state, saddened, though unsurprised. He walked around to the other transparent side of Loki's corner prison, wringing his wrists somewhat anxiously.

"Did she suffer?" Loki asked in earnest.

Thor took in his red eyes and disheveled body at closer range and felt a pang of pity. Despite all the horrors Loki had committed, he was still his brother, and just a man.

"I did not come here to share our grief. Instead I offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament."

Loki tilted his head in immediate interest.

"Go on."

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard and I will grant it to you. Vengeance. And afterward, this cell."

Loki looked about him for a moment, thoughtful and calculating. _Why does he want my help?_ He looked back to Thor in sudden realization, chuckled, and sighed in pleasure.

"You must be _truly_ desperate to come to me for help."

Thor turned away, chagrined that Loki had seen through him so easily, walking slowly around his brother's cell.

"What makes you think you can trust me?"

"I don't," he said quickly, turning back. "Mother did."

Loki felt his boiling rage and sadness well up inside of him again and he looked up at his brother in misery.

"But you should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with the glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there, somewhere," he said gesturing to him. Loki felt his heart sink. "That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you." Thor watched him, challenge in his eyes.

Loki smiled a genuine smile for the first time in over a year, grunting softly.

"When do we start?"


	13. Carina's betrayal

Tivan danced around his museum in delight, his fur cloak shifting around silkily with his movements. He was humming excitedly, running his white cloth gloves against his displays, checking for filth.

"Cariiiiinaaaaa," he sang, still dancing. She looked up hopefully from the floor she was cleaning and approached.

"Yes master?" she asked sweetly.

He ran his glove across her face, smearing black soot across her cheek.

"I'll not have a dirty abode for our Asgardian visitors," he said, shoving her face away roughly in anger, no longer humming or dancing. "Clean faster."

She nodded, tears in her eyes, clutching her brush and going back to work on the floor. He walked straight through the shallow puddle where she had just cleaned, leaving dusty footprints as he sashayed back upstairs to his personal quarters. Lyanne watched all from her spot in the shadows, pity striking her but not knowing why. She approached the Krylorian silently, watching her wipe tears away from her dark pink cheeks. Carina looked up at her, surprised and a little ashamed. She snapped at her hatefully out of embarrassment.

"Why don't you go keep our master company – that's all you're good for, you stupid _mutt!"_

Lyanne backed away in confusion, but did not bother her further, choosing instead to curl up on a large satin chair in the corner of his collection. In a matter of seconds, she heard Tivan calling her to him. She slid off the chair and climbed the stairs, entering his luxurious private chambers and looking at him questioningly. He spun around on his heels, patting his bed for her to lay there. She complied, curling into a ball on the rich down blankets and sighing in contentment. He tapped her head and she looked up to see him sit next to her on the bed.

"I'm aware your primitive brain can't understand much beyond the most basic of commands," he started, but looked at her in concern for a moment before continuing. "But, I will be having dangerous visitors here soon and you need to _stay. here. _Understand?"

Lyanne gave no hint of comprehension besides emitting a small whine and yawning.

"Hmm," he moaned, smiling. He knew what he was going to do.

Tivan stood, adjusting his red and black leather top, attaching the rich gold chain embedded with turquoise to it carefully. Donning his black and white spotted fur cloak and replacing his snowy gloves with another pair, he turned to her gracefully.

"Do I look adequately humbled?" he asked with a laugh, heading towards the door. "Stay here," he said, closing it behind him with the press of a button. Lyanne simply napped for an unknown period of time before she felt another tap on her head, this time deep and rough. She picked her head up and snapped, raising her hackles, but saw Carina standing at the foot of the bed with a large bone in her hand. Lyanne immediately relaxed and licked her chops, following the Krylorian out of Tivan's quarters and into a dark hallway filled with neglected exhibits. Carina threw the bone into one of the dark glass cages and Lyanne hesitated, growling.

"It's alright, my pet," Tivan said softly, suddenly appearing around the corner.

She pulled her ears back against her head in caution and entered the cell. Carina locked it behind her quickly and Lyanne panicked, clawing at the glass and whimpering.

"Shh," soothed the Collector, "Shh! It's only temporary. We can't have our noble visitors see me with such a desirable creature."

Lyanne whined more, but her master pointed at the bone Carina had placed in the cage.

"Enjoy your treat. By the time you're done, it'll be time to come out again."

Lyanne watched them leave the dark corridor with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. It had been a very, very long time since she had been forced into a cage – she felt anger boiling inside her again, something she hadn't felt on such a murderous scale in several months, when she had first come here. Still, she had a bone, and set to work on it furiously, watching through the glass attentively for any unwelcome surprises.

After a few minutes, she heard a different pair of voices than usual coming from the main hallway. Lyanne was used to hearing various strangers' voices every so often, learning to ignore them patiently, but something about the pair she heard now...

She stopped chewing on her bone immediately and pressed herself and her tall, stalk-like ears against the glass. She folded her right one back and shoved the left one harder against her cage, straining to listen more carefully.

"...It is not wise to keep two Infinity Stones so close together," said a deep male voice.

"That's... very wise," she heard her master say in a flattering, yet somewhat bored voice.

There was a moment of silence before her master spoke again in his hesitating, flamboyant tone.

"I can assure you – it will be... _absolutely _safe, here... in my collection."

"See that it is," said a tense female, the first voice Lyanne had heard mere moments before that had initially piqued her interest.

"One down," she heard Tivan mutter. "Five to go."

Lyanne stood there confused... something... _familiar_... but her mind wasn't quite capable of comprehending it. She twitched her ears in irritation, shaking her head to clear it, but nothing helped. She heard Tivan's steady footsteps coming around the corner and she sat down quickly, suddenly feeling guilty but once again not knowing why.

"Good job, pet," he said silkily, unlocking the cell and holding his hand out to pet her. "Good girl."

He looked over at her half-eaten bone and scowled slightly.

"Not hungry?" he asked, a dangerous tone as thin as a razor edging his voice slightly.

Lyanne cocked her head innocently and Tivan narrowed his eyes, but let it go.

"I know it's not your favorite," he said, "My apologies."

Lyanne huffed relief and walked calmly to see if she could still catch a glimpse of the visitors, but there was no one there. Not even Carina.

* * *

"Asgardians!" she called, trying not to attract too much attention to herself. "Asgardians, wait, please!"

Luckily her high voice reached their ears, and the gruff, jaded crowd around them ignored her completely. The elegant, warrior-like duo in gilded armor turned around to face her.

"We don't have any more business with your master," the black-haired woman said irritably.

"I am not here on my master's business," she breathed, hoping desperately they would not turn on her.

The fat, bearded man raised an eyebrow and motioned impatiently for her to say what she needed to say.

"You must first promise me _not_ to let my master know what I have shown you!"

The female rolled her eyes, angry and tired. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, but Carina clutched at her armor desperately. The warriors looked at her in sheer surprise.

"Please," she whined, "Please you _must_ come after the last round of orloni betting, when my master is asleep. You must!"

The Asgardians looked at each other, then whispered amongst themselves before turning back to her warily.

"No tricks, no traps, no funny business or sales pitches," the hefty man warned with a meaty finger.

"Oh thank you, yes, thank you!" she sighed in sheer relief, skittering away back towards the Collector's museum.

"What do you think that was about?" asked the woman, Sif.

"Only one way to find out," muttered Volstagg through his thick beard.

* * *

Lyanne awoke to a soft whistle and kissy sounds, a thin sliver of soft light hitting her square in the face. She looked up groggily, her golden eyes glowing in the dark, looking towards the sound and seeing Carina holding a piece of thick, juicy meat and gesturing for her to follow. Lyanne seemed to calculate for a moment, but slid off the end of her master's bed stealthily and exited the room. Carina ran down the same dark hallway as earlier in the day, throwing the meat into the exact cell she had tossed the bone into before. Figuring it was just the same thing as this morning, Lyanne entered and didn't even make a fuss when Carina locked the door behind her. After a few minutes, long after Lyanne had finished the steak and licked her fingers clean, she heard soft, hasty footsteps making their way towards her cage. She pricked her ears up in interest, leaning forward and concentrating.

"Right over here, Asgardians," she heard the Krylorian girl whisper.

Lyanne looked up just in time to see Carina looking into her cage with an eager smile, gesturing to unseen guests for them to have a look. Once they showed their faces, however, something electric shot through Lyanne. She leaped to her feet and pressed her hands against the glass, examining the pair of strangers intently. No, not strangers... The grinning man suddenly came to mind, a golden horned helmet on his head, his body silhouetted against explosions behind him, in the midst of which were the duo that was now facing her with something like horror.

"Where did he find _this_?" Sif asked quietly.

"A purchase from Earth," Carina said breathlessly. "She was hidden from you purposely today."

"I suppose you know why?" asked Volstagg, trying hard to keep his deep voice from echoing in the dusty hallway.

"She was the mate of one of your people," she said, proud of her knowledge.

"Not just anyone," Sif said. _"Loki." _

When she said that, Lyanne's heart suddenly started to race and she began to whine, wagging her tail. She didn't quite understand why, but the name made her _excited._

"Shh!" Carina urged, her finger pressed to her pink lips. She turned back to the Asgardians. "Can your Loki take her back?" she asked.

"No," Sif said quietly, pausing for a moment. "He's dead."

Carina looked at the warriors in horror and Lyanne felt some kind of unbearable pain in her chest – she still couldn't comprehend anything about it except that she was in _pain_, sheer torture, and she suddenly gave an outward cry that alarmed the trio in front of her.

"You must go!" Carina cried in a hushed tone. "Now!"

The Asgardians complied with one last look at Lyanne, who by now was throwing herself against the glass in frustration and snarling, her sharp teeth bared in fury as she roared. They had just left the building when Tivan came out of his room in silken pajamas, furious at being woken.

"What's all the noise?" he grumbled.

"I think Lyanne went back into the cell to get the rest of that bone from earlier today," Carina said nervously. "The door must have closed and trapped her – she's probably just confused – I'll go get her."

Tivan gave her a suspicious look, but allowed her to retrieve his pet from her cage. Lyanne rushed out, glancing towards the main floor of the museum hopefully, but saw nothing. Tivan grabbed her collar harshly and led her back to his chambers, his pet giving one last disappointed look around the museum.


	14. Odin on a mission

"Are you sure you know what you saw?" Odin asked them slowly, carefully.

"Yes, my king," Sif said, kneeling. "It was the monster Loki knew. We are sure of it."

"Except... brainless," Volstagg contributed. "Like a domesticated dog."

Odin traced a finger carefully along his lips, deep in thought.

"What are your orders, sire?" asked Sif.

Odin looked up, broken from his reverie. He was driven more easily to distraction these days it seemed, spending much more time holed up in his private chambers or the palace library, but who could blame him? The entire realm knew that Frigga's death had affected the old king more than he let on. He was no longer young, and everyone knew that oftentimes, when an elder's spouse died, the remaining one would join them in short order. Considering the loss of Frigga was so closely followed by the death of Loki and Thor's abdication of the throne, it was surprising Odin was even still functioning. All of Asgard worried for their king, but they worried more for the realm – with Thor dedicating his life to protecting Midgard, and Loki having died more than a week prior in a surprisingly valiant act, they would be left leaderless. Even Odin had refused to discuss the line of succession. He only asked his people to trust his judgment, which they did – after all, he had never steered them wrong before.

"We should help her," he said slowly. "If only to honor what might have been Loki's dying wish."

"Sire?" asked Volstagg, "For all we know – since they hadn't seen each other in over a year – Loki could have all but forgotten her completely. I highly doubt she would have been a part of his_ dying moments_."

"And how would you know?" snapped Odin.

Volstagg balked, a little hurt, concern etching his features. Sif laid a chiding hand on his shoulder, her look saying all – _Indulge __our king__. Perhaps he is still grieving._ He backed off and merely waited patiently for Odin's orders. Eventually, the king seemed to reach a conclusion.

"I shall go meet with the Collector myself," he stated.

"What?" Volstagg exclaimed, Sif grasping his arm in panic.

"If anyone were able to convince him to release her, it would be me," he said with a smile.

_Has he lost it ?_ Sif wondered.

"I will leave Heimdall, my most trusted subject, in charge of the realm. Have him summoned, I shall leave at once."

The pair gave him incredulous looks, but what could they do? They bowed respectfully and followed his command. Within minutes, Odin was at the Bifrost with Heimdall, giving him orders before his departure. The golden-eyed, all-seeing guardian nodded in solemn understanding before using his sword to send Odin off through the Bifrost to Knowhere. Sif and Volstagg approached him with questioning glances, but he watched as stoically as ever. Finally, as the pair was about to leave, he spoke.

"Perhaps he simply wants a reminder of his son," Heimdall offered, his deep, calm voice rumbling within the circular chamber. "Or to honor that which he treasured, as a final gift for his bravery."

"Do you really believe that?" Sif asked.

"I am not sure," he admitted, turning back to them with a small smile. "I can see much, but not everything... unbelievable as that may seem," he chuckled.

His reassuring laugh made the two feel more at ease – Heimdall was the best man to leave in power, and rumors were flying about that he would be left as the next king of Asgard. There were no finer men to take the burden than he.

"Although," he suddenly added, pausing for a moment. "Perhaps he just needs a new project – to keep his mind occupied."

Sif and Volstagg understood – it made sense. Once one had nothing left to do in their life, they were quick to deteriorate and perish. Trying to rehabilitate Lyanne would be likely to bring Odin out of his grief and back to ruling the realm more attentively. And after all, if Loki had been capable of redemption in his final moments, sacrificing himself to save his brother and rival, who was to say his closest companion couldn't do the same thing – except, perhaps, maybe not having to die for her salvation.


	15. Loki meets the Collector

"Master," squeaked Carina, sweating heavily and trembling with alarm. "Master, King Odin of Asgard is here to speak with you!"

"Hide her," Tivan barked. "NOW."

Carina tried to do as she was bid, attempting to lead Lyanne via a chain to an opaque, soundproof cell, but she fought her with every step, eventually yanking the leash free from her grasp and running down to the main museum floor. Tivan caught her chain in a fluid motion before she could escape, dragging her to the cell himself with irritation and shoving her inside, locking the door and yanking the lever to raise her to the ceiling. He would take no chances. He watched her cage rise up to the ceiling, shaking with her panicked movements and rattling the suspension cables. But her roars were impossible to detect beneath the thick glass, as was any sight of her – that was for the best.

"Taneleer Tivan?" boomed a voice from behind him.

The Collector swished around with a grand gesture, giving a deep, flourishing bow and examining the Asgardian king. He shooed his Krylorian slave from the room and she took off as quickly as she could, trying her best to hide an excited smile.

"I am your humble servant, ser," he offered, straightening. "What can I help you with today?"

"I sent you a gift some time ago," he said, wasting no time as he approached the flamboyant curator of the oddest museum he had ever seen. "I assume you received it?"

"But of course," he said, "It is locked safely away, as you requested."

"I see," said Odin, glancing around. "And what else is kept safely out of sight here, Tivan?"

"Ser?"

"Don't play stupid," he snapped. "I know you have her here."

"Her?"

Odin reached forward and grabbed Tivan's lavish, jeweled vest with his armored hand.

"You know exactly who I mean," he hissed, uncharacteristically aggressive – at least, uncharacteristic from what _Tivan_ had heard.

"Allfather," he said quietly, looking down at where the old king had grasped him roughly, raising his eyebrows in admonishment. Odin let him go gently, but maintained eye contact with him.

"Hand the beast over, _now,_ and there will be no backlash, no violence – you may even keep the Aether in your possession. For now."

Tivan did not like being manhandled or threatened, least of all in his own museum. He snarled, all eccentricity gone from his demeanor.

"You _can't_ have her."

"I _will,"_ Odin challenged.

As loathe as the Collector would be to challenge King Odin, he did have a winning card up his sleeve.

"I've existed since the dawn of the universe, and I'll be here long after its demise," he hissed, his face centimeters away from Odin's. "I am a _true _immortal. Do you really think you can challenge me?"

"I have seen Death," Odin spit back in a low tone. "I have knelt at her feet and been given her graces – I have had my name stricken from the book of the dead, I have been killed more than once and returned twice as powerful. I have held and used the power of four Infinity Stones, been to realms you can only imagine, been imprisoned for more than a year, killed one of the Kursed, and I've tasted the death of one Elder by my hands already and as far as I'm concerned _one more won't matter."_

He backed away from Tivan, sneering and wearing a look of pure fire.

"Lo..." Tivan attempted to say, but Odin held up his spear and put a warning finger to his lips.

"Say my name and you'll go the same way as the Gardener," he spoke quietly. "Now release your prisoner or you shall meet your former comrade in the realm of Hel."

Tivan stumbled backwards towards the panels and levers that controlled the glass cages on the ceiling, fumbling with several switches before he got to Lyanne's. The container seemed to take an eternity to slide down to the floor, but when it did, the Collector opened the door reluctantly, releasing Lyanne at once. Odin sighed when he saw her, but she growled and backed away, her tail down and ears flat against the back of her head.

"She does not wish to go with you," Tivan pouted, but Odin slammed his spear into the ground and Lyanne gave a small whimper.

"She will leave with me, one way or another," he said, unafraid. "Now remove her tracker."

Tivan sighed heavily, but complied, grabbing a small, pointed tool that resembled the forked end of a hammer, digging it into a spot at the base of her mane and pulling. She yelped in pain as a small, blood-covered mechanical chip fell into her master's palm and he crushed it with his hands. He walked in front of her and reached around her neck, delicately removing the jewel-studded collar inscribed with his name that he had given her several months prior. Lyanne looked at him with concern, but he grabbed her hand and gave it a small kiss before turning back to Odin and shoving her towards him. She looked back, unsure and afraid, but her master merely sat on the stairs, putting his head in his hands in defeat.

"Mention this to anyone, you will lose not only the Aether, and your precious museum, but your otherwise endless life as well," Odin threatened before grabbing Lyanne and storming out of the Collector's museum.

Tivan gave one last, sad wave goodbye to his former pet, clutching her collar tightly before walking to his room and placing it in a small glass display by his bedside.

_Well,_ he thought, _At least I still have the Infinity Stone._


	16. Loki's promise

"Welcome back, sire," Heimdall greeted as Odin returned with his cargo via the Bifrost. Lyanne gave a curious look at the gatekeeper as they passed, her heart still pounding in her chest.

"I need to attend to this," Odin said calmly, gesturing to his captive. "You understand my barring your sight during the previous negotiations, I am sure?"

"Yes, my king," he said. Certain things needed to be kept between as few beings as possible, especially where Odin Allfather was concerned. His secrecy did not alarm Heimdall at all. In fact, he was somewhat used to it – during particular moments of the day, such as when he was in his chambers, he concealed himself from his trusted subject's sight. The all-seeing man supposed Odin simply wanted his privacy to grieve his lost wife during that time, and never questioned it. When he sat the throne, studied, feasted or simply walked around the palace, he left himself plainly visible for all the see – those were not the actions of a guilty man.

"Good, then you understand why I must keep you out now?"

"Yes, sire," he said, less certainly, but still obedient.

With that, Odin took off towards his chambers, Lyanne still in tow. When they had finally reached his bedroom, he sealed the doors and used his magic to bar their sight from Heimdall. Once he was done, he emitted a faint green glow and the visage of the tired old man faded away to reveal the tall, youthful, beautiful form of Loki. He smiled and extended his arms to Lyanne, but to his horror she shrank away, a silent scream in her throat. Her mind and heart nearly exploded with the sudden appearance of the smiling man from her dreams and visions – wordless questions and emotions battled within her and she backed away in fear, knocking over a table stacked with parchment and ink and tumbling over backwards to the floor, kicking her legs to propel herself away from this familiar stranger. Loki sighed with disappointment, but not surprise. Volstagg and Sif had warned him that she was no longer herself. He knelt down beside her, watching her chest heave as she took terrified gasps and watched him with wide eyes. He slid a hand up her furry arm, placing his head against hers and whispering in her ear.

"I will heal you, Lyanne," he promised. "As you once healed me."


	17. Yuletide

Loki, still wearing an image of his adoptive father, ran his hands over the tablet carefully, reading the inscription several times before sighing in frustration. He had gone over the weapons and artifacts in the trophy room so many times he was beginning to dream of them. He would wake in the middle of the night, sweating profusely, Lyanne resting peacefully on the foot of the large bed. His attempts to make her sleep directly next to him were fruitless, and he let it go – when he was honest with himself, he admitted that loving her in her current form and mentality would feel indecent.

Loki examined the inscription on the Lifeline Tablet once more. He had written it down, but by now he had gone over it so many times it was burned into his memory. Had he the skill to use the formula it showed, and make the magic elixir, he _might_ be able to fix Lyanne... but the potion was tricky; magic was not his problem, but making some insanely complicated substance that could go unimaginably wrong in a thousand different ways was not something he really wanted to risk. It was supposed to heal any wound and open up the ability for any creature to reach their full evolutionary potential... as well as provide immortality.

_Immortality._

The temptation was nearly overwhelming; it consumed his thoughts almost constantly, his night terrors becoming more violent than usual. He would bolt upright, thrashing, his muscles tense and heart racing. He once even managed to toss Lyanne off the bed, frightening her so badly she had slunk off to the spacious cage he had set up across the room and curled up protectively inside of it. Loki had set the enclosure up to avoid letting anyone know how close to her he really was, not for her to actually _use_ it. When she hid from him in terror it made his stomach burn – he had to find a solution – _had_ to.

He heaved another sigh and left the hall of spoils – half a dozen artifacts with power beyond the possible, and all of them were basically useless. Several guards passed him by and he nodded with a smile, but did not stay to linger. He had a date, after all.

* * *

The cold winter winds blew harshly in the courtyard, and Lyanne felt it even through her thick layer of fur and the even thicker robes Odin... _Loki_... had given her. She lifted her face to examine the slowly falling snow; she hadn't seen any in almost two years, having been a captive for the past 14 months. Fifteen, if one were to consider the past month she had been on Asgard as imprisonment. She hadn't spoken or had much in the way of reasoning capabilities since early January – it was now December. Her breath came from her snout in thick white plumes that she watched dissipate with boredom. She was merely waiting for her new master. She felt something smooth and cold beneath her bare paws, and she knelt down to examine it. It was ice, so thick and pure she could almost see her reflection. Not that she wanted to – there were mirrors in Odin's chambers, where she was normally kept, but they disturbed her and she left them alone. Standing up, she turned back towards the palace to see her master standing there, his white beard matching the snow. Although he usually only changed his face in the evening, Lyanne found she much preferred him then – the face of the old man only made her angry. The face of the young, smiling trickster was more pleasing, and it felt more genuine besides. Though she could not process these thoughts in such an organized manner, she was able to feel everything – relief, joy, comfort, and something else that made her chest hurt. She smiled, her teeth slightly visible, and walked forward to nudge her master's hand. Though his image was a false one, he found he could make minimal contact with her and still maintain the illusion of Odin without it shimmering or disintegrating.

"I have a surprise for you," he said softly.

She cocked her head to the side, but he motioned for her to follow and she did, all the way back to her master's chambers. When they arrived, she sniffed at the room carefully – something unfamiliar was there, but she couldn't figure out what. She saw all the same items as usual; the furniture, her master's bed, the fiery braziers, her generous enclosure and bed inside of it. Lyanne looked back to Odin in confusion, but he had changed his shape back to that of his true self, Loki. He smiled and reached for her and she gladly complied, nuzzling into his neck in pleasure and purring as he stroked her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, but as usual, she did not respond.

Loki parted from her reluctantly with a soft breath, looking into her feral eyes with sadness.

"I know how... _sentimental_ you Midgardians can be," he said slowly, a hint of a smile making the corners of his mouth twitch. "I am aware it is celebration time there now for much of the planet, and your customs stem from ours, for the most part..."

He trailed off as she watched him intently. Sometimes he could _swear_ she understood, at least on some level, but gave it up as impossible. He continued.

"Well, in any case, I missed the celebration with you last year – so here is a gift for two years."

He produced a small, ornate wooden box with golden trim and a large, flawlessly cut amethyst on the top. He placed it gently into her hands and traced a thin finger along one of her long ears.

"Happy Yuletide, Lyanne."

She turned her head to the side in curiosity, but Loki simply gestured to the box and she pried it open gently with her claws as he sat down on the bed quietly. She had expected another collar, like the one Tivan had given her and taken back, but this one was too small to fit around her neck. She scowled slightly and sniffed at it – it was made of bright metal as opposed to leather, and there was only one gem set within it instead of the dozens from her previous band. Lyanne looked to Loki in confusion but he only smiled and motioned for her to sit next to him. She complied, facing him on the bed as he took the box from her hands and examined it.

"I had to go all the way to Xandar for this," he said. "Disguised as someone else entirely. The Broker there gave me a difficult time, but I managed to... _persuade_ him to part with it for a fair price."

He took the small metal band from the box and lifted Lyanne's left hand.

"Should you ever recuperate," he said softly, "I'd like you to honor this. This part's more of an Earth custom, truly, but..." He fell off, morose and tired, but looked back up at her and gave a small smile for her benefit. Loki slipped the band on her ring finger with ease and she examined it with interest. It was another collar, she was sure, and accepted it without complaint. Loki suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his fingers gently under her muzzle.

"Just come back to me, someday," he whispered before planting a small, chaste kiss on her lips. Lyanne felt something flutter inside of herself, like a spark or a flame, but Loki pulled away from her and donned the form of Odin once more. As king, he had to attend the traditional Yuletide boar feast, reluctant though he was to participate. He opened the door to his chambers with a heavy heart and slipped outside, locking the room behind him and leaving Lyanne by herself and her thoughts.

_Someday. _ The word swam to her mind and she tried to dwell on it before it slipped away from her like smoke. Lyanne huffed in disappointment, but the feeling quickly vanished as she examined the gift Loki had given her.


	18. Return to Knowhere

"You must have _something_," Loki said dangerously, still in his Odin disguise for this trip. "We entrusted you with the Aether, I'm sure others have given you much more powerful items."

"More powerful than an Infinity Stone?" the Collector balked, nearly laughing in his enemy's face. He knew exactly who he was dealing with, and though he was not afraid, he would not be foolish, either. "Not only are you completely incorrect, but your assumption borders on outright stupidity."

Loki gripped the spear Gungnir tightly in his grasp, trying to intimidate Tivan. It was much harder than last time – perhaps because he had nothing left to bargain with, or because the element of surprise was gone. The Collector knew he was desperate, and that he had a definite advantage over Loki. He was a bargainer at heart, after all, and a possible deal that could be struck with the man who controlled Asgard could be quite the delicious opportunity. Blackmail was not his style; what happened elsewhere in the galaxy was of little matter to him, so long as it did not interfere with his own life – why should he care who was king of Asgard, as long as he could get what he wanted from him? He stared at Loki's – _Odin's_ – sneering face and ran a thin, white-gloved finger along his lower lip.

"I have heard stories," he began slowly, "Of particular artifacts that lie within the Asgardian vault. Would they be correct?"

"Yes," Loki said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

"What might one find there?" he asked, a grin playing along his lips.

Loki normally enjoyed and savored this game, but usually only when he was winning. His options were low and Tivan had him in an unfortunate corner. _I could give up this ridiculous attempt,_ he thought. _It's unlikely she will ever recover. Giving this man too much power is too big a risk for such little reward, even if it does work._

"One might find treasure or trouble, depending," Loki answered cryptically.

"I can solve your little problem," Tivan suddenly blurted, tiring of the game.

Loki picked up an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"And how would you propose that?" he said silkily. "You said you had nothing here..."

"I do not," Tivan answered bluntly. "Don't you think that if I had the ability to fix her addled brain, I would have?"

"I'm sure she was a greater asset to you dumb and obsequious."

"True," he chuckled. "Very true. But she would have made a finer collectible if her sanity was intact. She did serve her purpose as a mindless pet, however."

Loki felt a little rankled at the thought of Lyanne playing the part of a dumb animal to this flamboyant scoundrel, but relaxed and watched his opponent carefully.

"What do you propose?" he asked.

Tivan's face lit up with a mischievous smile that didn't show his teeth.

"Have you ever heard of the Tablet of Life and Time?" he asked quietly.

Loki's heart nearly skipped a beat. _The Lifeline tablet._

"Perhaps," he said slowly.

"I need a definitive answer," the Collector said in a low tone, backing away. "Otherwise I cannot help you."

"Yes," Loki stated.

"The formula etched upon it – have you attempted to create it yet?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"For you, maybe. For me, or a being in my collection... maybe not."

"Do not lie to me, Tivan," Loki said dangerously, his voice edged with poison.

"Is this the face of a liar – _Loki_?" he sneered. "You of all beings – prince of deceit, silver-tongue, lord of lies and mischief – you dare question _my_ honesty?"

"I told you once before, just because you are an Elder does not mean your life is truly endless. I saw to the Gardener myself."

"I am aware. But I am also aware that he was a special case allowed by Death herself."

He glared at the Collector hatefully.

"You are not the only one with intergalactic contacts," Tivan said softly. "Though your number seems to have dwindled significantly as of late – I doubt Thanos or Death would allow you their favors a _third_ time."

Loki breathed in a moment before waving his hand in defeat.

"Fine," Loki said. "Fine. Name your price."

"You will pay it?"  
"It still depends on what you want."

"The Tesseract."

"Impossible," Loki said immediately. _Nothing_ was worth putting it into the hands of anyone else.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot help you," Tivan said with a sad face, turning his back to leave him, but Loki knew better.

"The tablet," he offered. "Take it."

Tivan chuckled.

"Worthless in comparison."

"The Cask of Ancient..."

The Collector shook his head, but turned back to Loki and approached him carefully, his eyebrows raised.

"Tell me, Trickster... what _did_ you do with the old man?"

Loki felt his heart pound, but smirked with relief.

"That is my secret," he said slowly. "But, for a price... Perhaps my tongue could loosen."

Tivan smirked at first, then suddenly began chuckling.

"You will, of course, take the utmost precaution during transportation? I can keep my new friend contained, but it would certainly be a shame to wake him before I get a chance to enjoy his company."

"You have my word," Loki said with silky satisfaction.

_That will solve two problems, _he thought.


	19. Making an exchange

"Hand it over," Tivan said softly, his white-gloved hands outstretched to receive the Lifeline Tablet. Loki complied without hesitation and Tivan inspected it, nearly glowing with admiration. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see it again," he said with a smile, placing it on a table surrounded by hundreds of different phials, liquids, herbs, powders, and indescribable items.

"You will take the utmost care with creation?" Loki asked, though he knew it was merely a formality of a question. The Collector looked back at him over his telescopic glasses, his white eyebrows rising with incredulity.

"As much care as you will take to give me what I want," he said flippantly.

"Have no worry over that," Loki said with a devious grin. "But I must ask – when will this be ready?"

"Two weeks. At most."

"Two weeks?" Loki repeated with a hiss, but knew he was stuck.

"At the time this is completed, you will be notified," he said, examining the inscription on the tablet carefully, running a hand delicately over the formula. "And then our transaction will take place. I trust you will have no further need of me in that time?"

Loki seethed at his tone, but shook his head.

"No," he said.

"Until then," responded Tivan.

Loki nodded curtly and gave the slightest bow, leaving quickly and hoping with desperation that he was not making a mistake.

* * *

Loki knelt in front of Lyanne, her clawed hands secured safely within his own. She looked sad, somehow; Loki didn't think she could process thoughts or emotions anymore, and the look on her face unnerved him. He stood and began brushing her violet locks back, gazing into her feral golden eyes with a smile.

"I hope this works," he whispered.

He heard a soft, simple whimper from her throat as she nuzzled his hands.

_Please,_ he prayed to no one, _please let it work._

* * *

"This is it?" asked Loki, examining the set of small vials as the cargo he had brought was deposited into one of Tivan's many cages by his goons.

"That is all that is required," the Collector said.

"What if I should want more?" he asked, pocketing the bottles carefully in his armor. "It _does_ make the imbiber immortal through continued use, yes?"

"Well," he muttered. "To a point."

Loki scowled, but Tivan shook his head and raised a warning, well-manicured finger.

"If you want more of this substance, I will require more payments. And I assure you, they will not be cheap."

"Are you going to ask for more items from the vault?" he sneered.

"And then some," Tivan answered.

_Just see if this works first,_ Loki thought. _Then you can decide from there._

"How long will it take to go into effect?"

"I'm not sure. It varies, from species to species, and problem to problem."

"I assume I'm going to get the same answer when I ask how long it will last, too?"

"Yes. Just – call on me, should you need more, and have something of value to offer..."

Loki scowled and rolled his eyes, but let it go as the cage they had been loading was vaulted up to the ceiling. He gave a sarcastic salute to it and laughed, turning to leave.

"Do give your lady my regards," Tivan called after him, rubbing his hands together as he watched his newest acquisition join his collection.


	20. Awakening

"Just drink it, Li!" Loki scolded, his arms outstretched to catch Lyanne if she tried to flee. She growled and lashed out with her claws, but he swiftly and easily avoided her, dashing around to block her escape again. She snarled and tried to lunge away, but Loki tackled her to the ground, holding her there with little difficulty as she squirmed and wriggled under his power. Loki unstopped one of the vials, breathing deeply before grabbing her snout, holding it up and prying it open, carefully balancing the open bottle between two fingers and using the other three to aid in holding her jaw. Once he had tipped the liquid in, she began to gag, her tongue working quickly in her mouth in distaste, squirming faster and attempting to buck him off of her. Loki grabbed her snout tighter and held it shut, then blew air up her nose. She snorted reflexively and swallowed the potion, gagging and coughing as he released her and stood. Panting, he held his hand out to help her from the floor, but she suddenly snapped forward and caught his left forearm in her powerful jaws, biting down and drawing a fountain of blood. Loki roared and instinctively smacked her away, forcing her to release her grip as he clutched his arm to his chest and cursed through his clenched teeth. Lyanne whimpered and fled to her cage, cowering inside, her ears against the back of her head and her hackles up.

"It's for the best, my dear," Loki spat, nursing his wound as he donned the disguise of Odin and fled the chamber to retrieve a healing kit. Lyanne shivered and whimpered in her cage until she suddenly felt a powerful wave of drowsiness wash over her, the adrenaline flushing from her body as she yawned and padded over to Loki's bed and curled up on her side, falling asleep almost immediately.

* * *

Loki entered the room once more, locking the door behind him and dropping his disguise. He examined the now banded wound on his arm, remembering with strange fondness the first time that had happened almost two years prior, when he had tried to choke Lyanne and she had bitten him so hard her teeth had almost reached his bone. That was the night he had forced her to fall asleep in his bed, the day before their first kiss, not long before they first... Loki blushed a little with the bittersweet recollection. He started thinking just how long it _had_ been since he and Lyanne had loved each other. _Over a year, anyway,_ he thought with distaste. He missed waking up to her warm body against his, her hands against his chest or her back against his stomach, their limbs intertwined, Lyanne's sweet breath on his neck or the one time Loki woke up with a mouthful of her long hair... He chuckled to himself and stared at his lover's sleeping, though still monstrous form on the bed. He noticed with delight that she was finally resting in a proper human manner as opposed to folding herself up like a dog at the foot of the mattress. Loki crept along the bed gently, shimmying in between the sheets and curling his body gently around hers, pulling her back against him and tucking his knees behind her own, spooning her frame and kissing her long, velvety ears by barely grazing his lips against them. She sighed in her sleep, wordless as always, though he felt her body push back against his and her clawed hands grasp his own against her stomach and chest.

_I would be almost content to lay like this for the rest of eternity,_ he thought. _Almost. But there is still so much to do._

* * *

Lyanne opened her eyes and immediately felt something was off. Her head felt like she was deep underwater, or in a dream, and it ached _terribly._ She made a soft moan and tried to sit up, but found she was held fast by something behind her. She craned her neck back to see and, to her surprise, a word formed in her head.

_Loki._

She savored it for a moment, understanding it little by little, rolling over gently to face him. Lyanne reached out to stroke his face gently and made another stunning realization – _she had hands._ She jumped up immediately, forgetting all about trying not to wake Loki, and began examining her entire body. Her fur was gone, her claws were gone, her tail was gone... all of it. She even pulled a lock of her hair forward to inspect it and noticed it was back to its usual dark brown instead of purple. Though she could not attach words or thoughts to _everything_ just yet, she was gaining her knowledge back quickly and was able to recall who she was – for the most part. Her heart pounding, Lyanne slowly approached the mirror that stood against the wall, where she had angled it upward long before to avoid seeing her reflection. She pulled it back down with trepidation and gazed at her human self for the first time in over a year. Upon seeing herself, all Lyanne could do was stand and stare in shock. She had almost forgotten her features, the color of her eyes or the shape of her nose, or the way her head tilted when she thought really hard. Suddenly she saw the reflection of a figure approaching from behind, placing its hands about her shoulders gently.

"Lyanne?" Loki asked softly, pitifully.

She turned around to face him and he grinned, his eyes filling with tears as he pulled her against him firmly and wrapped his arms about her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He sobbed into her neck and she placed a soothing hand on the back of his head, sliding her fingers through his jet black hair and repeating his name over and over in her head.

_Loki,_ she wanted to say, but found she could not form words just yet. All she emitted was a sort of squeak and a sigh, but Loki pulled his head up and looked into her eyes, brushing her long hair away from her face. Slowly, relishing the moment, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her lips for the first time in what felt like a thousand years. His lips moved passionately against hers as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, but she did not shrink away from his embrace; instead, she clutched him more tightly and responded with equal fervor, her fingers clawing down his back in primal lust. He broke the kiss and drew back, gazing at her questioningly, fire in his eyes and stomach. Breathing heavily, Lyanne nodded her assent and began tugging at his clothing. There were few things she could understand as the fog from her broken mind had begun to lift, but the look Loki had given her and the burning desire she had felt was beyond mere words.


End file.
